


The Sixth Thatcher

by TPride



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Series Four, Six Thatchers, written pre-transmission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TPride/pseuds/TPride
Summary: A plot bunny attacked me on New Year's Night with too much energy from champagne, etc.So I figured I'd better post this before 4.1 transmits later today.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A plot bunny attacked me on New Year's Night with too much energy from champagne, etc.  
> So I figured I'd better post this before 4.1 transmits later today.

They found her sitting on a table. Her characteristic profile grinning away like no other species on the planet.  
John turned to Sherlock: "May I?"  
"By all means." Sherlock was smiling.  
Turning to face the head and shoulders statue, John hefted the cricket bat, and started to walk around her.  
"Best angle?"  
"Top down, I should think. Opposite of how it was dropped in."  
"Oi you two." Lestrade caught up with them at last. "Not destroying the evidence, are you?"  
"On the contrary," Sherlock replied.  
Lestrade stood well back from the table, as he was aware of how dusty this might become.  
John took up his preferred stance right before the statue, measure the distance one last time, then he lifted the bat in two hands up over his head and back. Standing for a moment like an extended spring, his compact body comitting to this one move, like an expert at a fairground about to ring the bell.  
The swing accelerated arching his entire body the other way, to bring the bat down on the crown of the Thatcher, effectively crushing it, and in doing so splitting it in two with the missing murder weapon falling out onto the table with a little clunk, as dust rose all around it.  
Lestrade took gloves from Anderson and bagged it with a look of satisfaction.  
"Awright, give!" He told Sherlock who was already forwarding the film to him.  
While John wiped e worst of the dust off himself with a dry towel, Sherlock held his jacket for him, then as John pulled it on the two of them started giggling, and hastily left the scene.  
"Did it feel good?"  
"Very satisfactory." John replied and grinned on.  
"Destroying an image..."  
"Do you know the suicide statistics for those years?"  
"No, but I would suspect there was an increase." Sherlock admitted.  
John just nodded once firmly, then pulled the door open for Sherlock to walk out first, then they were gone from that building, the case essentially solved.


End file.
